12/06/2003 - 4:14 a.m. | forgiveness please

I've been trying how to describe myself lately, and the best I've got is "cheerful apathy." I mean, I don't really see the point of anything, and nothing really matters, but on the other hand, I don't really see the point of anything and nothing really matters, so I'm just sort of jolly. I mean, I keep keeping fucked over in a select few classes, and some of my friendships are seemingly waning, and yet I'm actually very content.

It's that time of the year. When the men (and women) are separated from the boys (I can never tell women from boys - can you?). I'm talking about fucking kick your ass winter, man! Everybody can ride a bike when it's nice and sunny; it takes stones to try and navigate through the tundra. Bicyclists are down to a select few; whenever I see one, I feel like I should give them some sort of secret sign. For I am their leader, see. They tolerate it, and that's impressive in its own right. I, however, revel in it. My ever-present winter masochism makes it so. If only my Rhett Miller CD weren't constantly halting, I would be at complete peace with the world. "Gloves? You want gloves?! Well, sure... go ahead. And while you're at it, why not get a thermal codpiece for your VAGINA!" I guess the one setback would be that I am pretty much covered in mud all the time now. There are only 2 real options, though:

a) Wear snow pants
b) Fuck it

Guess which one I'm going with. I'll just pretend I mean for my jeans to look all dirty and splotchy. It's like those carefully added rips or the preworn areas in the butt and junk. Just like that.

Hmmm - about the day? Yes, good question. I got up early to study, but then that old question came up... Uh, study what? So I gave it the, er, college try and then headed off to take the test. I don't think it was really all that bad, but my overconfidence has set me up for some ass kickings before. Speaking of which, Maggie McFadden was none too generous on her grading of the last feature story, so I'm gonna need something hella good for the final here. Ideas are appreciated. And don't bother mentioning blowjobs as a topic because Spritz has the market cornered on that (the topic, not the sexual act itself... probably). Econ was, I dunno, painless. New Zealand said his goodbyes and whatever. I'll miss your accent, buddy, but not the class. At all. In stats, Will tried to write his psych essay, and I tried to read an issue of "Gamepro." Both turned out to be pretty difficult to do because, well, because they suck. Had our last quiz, which I damn well better get my 6 points on as we are down to the wire and those six points are very important to me. He came up with a really good catchphrase. Actually, the phrase was just, "Shut up, Will," but it was all about the intonation.

After class, Spritz and I went to Wendy's. Braces Girl appreciated my knowledge of Paula Cole songs. I wish the rest of you ingrates did. Then mall (20% off everything at B. Dalton Books from here on out!), rent, tanning. Speaking of which, Brytne complimented me on my complexion today, how clear it is or whatever. That's like the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me out of the blue ever, so I am highly appreciative. Matt's away message was "WHOA" so I IM'd him every ten minutes with a Mya lyric. Oh - and Brian Dunkleman was on "The Proud Family," but IMDB made no mention of it. Oh, how the mighty have fallen. In all aspects. And I continue to hate Lacienaga.

Another lots of food and drunken karaoke party at Kyle's parents place tonight. Dank was coming to pick Spritz and me up, but Yousaf had to, I dunno, put on his face or something because it took ages. In the meantime, Spritz and I stood on the porch, and I watched as he coughed and coughed to the point of hacking up mystery globs. They're white and fairly large and solid and gooey and totally mysterious (actually, as we are now totally in the throes of winter, there will be a nice sample preserved under the buzzer from the next few months). Neither of us are really sure what they are, but I'm guessing either insect eggs or pieces of his soul.

We didn't stay very long at the party, just long enough for me to get the pile of random meat into my system that would later prove to be my undoing. Kyle and Spritz are always trying to sell me on the idea of getting a dog, but based upon this cute little Asian girl running around and dancing and stuff, I think I would prefer a child instead. This either speaks wonders for my maturity as a caregiver or the complete opposite. Also, I prolly swear too much. Musn't scare the little buggers, right? There was some big debating about what movie we were gonna see. Yousaf was deadset on seeing Jessica Alba cavort about and show us her abs in Honey, but it appears that substance won out this time. I'm not sure if this was a good thing or not. Anyway, we went to see The Last Samurai, which turned out to be better than I thought. I mean, I know it got good reviews, but I usually don't enjoy really serious movies. Then again, over 90% of my enjoyment was based on the fact that a) we were in the front row (at an angle!) and b) that I was sitting next to Dank, the very best person to have next to you when you want to make fun of a serious movie. We are awful people, but it left us awful entertained! Huh! Huh! But anyway, it was a decent movie all around, and the emperor was Michael Jackson in every way, right down to the single white glove. So you should see it based on that alone.

We were gonna go watch some hardcore karaoke, but that flopped and we all went back to Dank's to watch Pirates of the Caribbean which is still very entertaining, if just a bit overlong. It was during this time that I added crappy Meijer apple juice and big, greasy slices of pizza to my little tummy mixture, leading to my own sort of internal monsoon a bit down the road. After we got back and the, uh, floodgates cleared, I played "Earthbound" to completion (finally!), and now we are at more than enough.